


till the end of the line

by iamalystark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Dies, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Feels, Character Death, Depressed Bucky Barnes, Depressed Steve Rogers, Drabble and a Half, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Angst, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalystark/pseuds/iamalystark
Summary: It was dark, the only sound being their shallow breathing. Steve shifted, just barely, staring at the wall. "Do you ever want to die?" He murmured, fingers tapping softly against the matress.He hadn't expected a response, hadn't expected his partner to be awake. But there was a reply, allbiet after a long, pregnant pause. "Yeah. Sometimes."(Or, in a world where Bucky really did die when he fell from that train, Steve Rogers misses his boyfriend.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	till the end of the line

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this in my notes for over a year and finally finished it a bit ago, its trash but oh well
> 
> also im not procastanating i swear ill update the mob au soon

One day, not even a memorable day, not a day that either of the pair remembered, Steve and Bucky lied in bed, both thinking the other asleep.

It was dark, the only sound being their shallow breathing. Steve shifted, just barely, staring at the wall. "Do you ever want to die?" He murmured, fingers tapping softly against the matress.

He hadn't expected a response, hadn't expected his partner to be awake. But there was a reply, allbiet after a long, pregnant pause. "Yeah. Sometimes." 

The blond jolted, turning around to face Bucky in the bed. "I do too. Not often. I just sometimes wonder if maybe the world would be better off without me." He mused, eyes straining to find Bucky's in the darkness. 

"It wouldn't. _I_ wouldn't, Steve. You know that." He responded gruffly, hand coming to rest on Steve's hip. 

"It'd help if I was healthier. Not so skinny. You know that's true." The blond mumbled. 

"I love you the way you are, Stevie. You're perfect." Bucky said with a heavy sigh, his grip on the other man tightening. 

"To you." Steve retorted, and they both knew exactly what he was implying, what he thought of himself. 

Minutes later, Bucky almost thought Steve was asleep, until he suddenly spoke up again, "If I was gone, what would you do?" 

He didn't sound like he planned on acting on anything, just wanted to know, but it still made something in Bucky's chest falter, made him pull Steve closer. 

"Fuck, Stevie, I don't know. I- Nothing. You're everything, Rogers. You're my everything." He responded, running his hand through his hair. 

"It's the same for me, you know? I don't know what I'd do without you." 

Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to continue this conversation, to ponder the possibility that someday Steve might be gone. 

"But that's never gonna happen, you hear me? You're going to live till you're a hundred and two." He said firmly, his voice gravely. 

Steve scoffed. "We both know I'll be lucky to make it to sixty." 

He did know. Yet, the thought of living a life without Steve, it made his heart ache. 

"The second you go, I'm gone too." The younger man spoke his thoughts, and it only made him hurt more. 

"Steve, you can't just-"

"The end of the line, right?" Steve whispered softly. 

"You an' me." Bucky agreed painstakingly.

Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep, tangled up under the sheets together. 'Together till the end of the line.' didn't used to be a suicide pact, but it turned into one.

* * *

Later, when Bucky got drafted (he thought Steve didn't know) for the war, the sickly kid thought about the possibility of getting a letter in the mail and never seeing him again. 

He thought about never getting to kiss those lips again, never being able to look into his glassy blue eyes, or never again being held in his arms. 

So, yeah, he tried to join the army. Of course he wanted to fight for his country, but if Bucky was going to go risk his life, then so was he. The end of the line, yeah?

* * *

The second he watched Bucky's hand slip, Steve knew his world had just ended. All his dreams about the end of the line, all his dreams about him and Bucky forever, were shattered, raining down around him like broken glass, cutting into him with every breath he took. 

That promise he made years ago was echoing through his mind in an instant, making his ears ring and his eyes water as he stared down at the quickly passing snowy terrain below him. 

It wasn't a lie, what he'd said. Steven Grant Rogers wasn't a liar. Not to him, not to Bucky. He could feel his fingers loosening, his eyes slipping closed. 

But then Jones was there, pulling him back, an arm around him. Steve didn't know if the other man knew what he'd been planning, didn't care. 

* * *

Steve could've landed the plane, he knew that. He didn't have to crash it in the Atlantic, he didn't have to sacrifice himself, didn't have to die. 

He knew he was hurting Peggy, knew his friend would mourn, but as his tired eyes gazed at the picture of his soldier on the dash of the plane, he knew he didn't care, not enough. 

"I'm coming, Buck. Till the end of the line." The young man whispered, his eyes falling closed. 

Next thing he knew, he was cold, and he was gone. 

Then he woke up. Bucky didn't.

* * *

He couldn't lie, all the times he threw himself from a plane without a parachute, or plunged into danger without hesitation, his promise to Bucky rung in his mind.

It did most days. Whether he was blowing up HYDRA bases or just wandering around the tower, he could never get those haunting blue eyes out of his head. 

He was doing neither of those things now, though. No, now he stood in a dark alley in Brooklyn, staring up at an apartment that used to be his. 

A half full bottle of whiskey hung loosely from his fingers, despite the fact that it had no effect on him. The closest he'd been to drunk since he got the serum was the Asgardian mead Thor offered him once. 

"How long are you going to stand there?" Came a voice from beside him. Steve blinked slowly. He wasn't sure when Natasha got there, didn't care really. 

He shrugged, feeling her eyes on him. They stood there quietly, both of them, for a long time. "Happy Birthday, Steve." She said finally, her hands in her pockets. 

The blond nodded, swallowing dryly. "Thank you."

She walked away after that, leaving him to stand there all alone. "You were right, Buck." He whispered softly, eyes finally leaving the apartment. Bucky was normally right.

His watch struck midnight, and it was July 5th. Steve turned away and followed Natasha. 

Bucky was right. He was alive to see a hundred and two. That didn't mean he wanted to be.


End file.
